My dad was a master at fixing things. You could call him and ask him to look at your broken washer and he could fix it. I remember as a child following along with him as he fixed something electrical or worked on his car. I used to stand next to him and hold the flashlight as he would talk me through what he was doing. Dad taught me to change the oil and filter in my car. He taught me to change a tire, how to do basic repair work around the house. He was patient like that.

After his retirement, dad decided to take up wood working. He had a friend who would make items out of wood and he and dad spent time together as dad learned the trade. Dad would make all kinds of items and gladly share his creations with his family. I have beautiful benches, bird houses and a clock that dad made from scratch. My mom loved birds. She was especially fond of the blue bird. My dad made beautiful blue bird houses for our back yard. He also made blue bird houses for local county parks. The other week, I took a drive past my childhood home and realized he made boxes and placed them on utility poles that lined our road.

A few months back, I visited with my sister-in-law who lives in the Northern part of our state. She was married to my oldest brother, who died in 2015. I love my time with her because we seem to be so connected by our mutual losses. During this visit, she took me out to the barn and asked me if I wanted this bird feeder. It was huge and heavy, and the paint was peeling. She said my dad made it and gave it to them years ago. She said Gary would re-paint it and even had to fix the plexiglass because a bear knocked the feeder down. I was hesitant at first to accept it. The bird feeder was in bad shape but decided to bring it home. Maybe another member of my family would want the feeder and have the time to fix it up.

The feeder sat in the garage for a few months. I offered her up to the family, but no-one wanted her. One Saturday, I decided, what the hell, let me see what I can do with her. I channeled my inner dad and went to work. I went to the local hardware store and purchased red and black paint and started the task of bringing her back to life. As I started to explore the bird feeder, I suddenly was transported back to the days I would help my dad. It all seemed so familiar, like the screws he used to screw the roof onto the side of the bird feeder and the hinges he used to lift up the roof to put in the bird food. The way he used an old screw to make it into a hanger to hang the feeder. But what caught me off guard, was seeing my brother’s work in the feeder as well. The modified plexiglass, the way he painted it the last time, the little bits of bird food left over. I was suddenly sitting in the same room as my dad and brother and it was so comforting. So, I did what my dad taught me, what he taught my brother, and I fixed it. As I sat back and admired my work, I smiled at the end result, they would both love the work I did, and they would both find something that I didn’t do quite right, a missed paint spot here or there, but overall, it was good. I placed the feeder out under the tree in the back yard. I can see the feeder from the sunroom. Like my mom, I watch the birds that come to feed and go and say to my daughter “look, there is a tufted tit mouse”. It does truly amaze me how much I am beginning to see my dad, my brother, my mother show up in my own personality, and truth be told, I love it.

This morning when I walked out the back door to go to work, there was snow on the ground and birds all around the feeder. But the best part, a beautiful cardinal enjoying her morning breakfast. Thanks Dad, for teaching me how to fix it.